The Loves and Longings of Amy March
by CoffeeQueen
Summary: Yes, we all hate Amy. She burned Jo's book, she took Jo's trip to Europe and she stole Laurie as well. But what if we looked through those situations through the youngest March girl's eyes. This story takes us through Amy's side of the story, longing for
1. Prologue

_Summary:_ Yes, we all hate Amy. She burned Jo's book, she took Jo's trip to Europe and she _stole_ Laurie as well. But what if we looked through those situations through the youngest March girl's eyes. This story takes us through Amy's side of the story, longing for the love of a man devoted to her sister, acceptance and happiness. Mostly film based with hints of Jo and Laurie, leading up to the proposal.

_Author's Note:_ This story is in no way a defense of Amy or her sometimes horrid actions, but merely an interpretation about how she might have felt and why she may have acted the way she did. I am a strong lover and supporter of Jo and Laurie, but this concept seemed interesting and intriguing to me. I hope I can do it justice. Chapter One is soon to follow, I just wanted to go ahead and get this out there. As always, comments, feedback and suggestions are always welcomed!

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**The Loves and Longings of Amy March**

Prologue

"Jo! Laurie! _Wait_!" Amy cried hopelessly as she raced to keep up. Her young, small legs could not keep up with the strength and power behind the older two. They had a purpose driving them as well, 'Get away from Amy as quickly as possible before she finds out where we're going'. Amy's legs and lungs pumped furiously but they were no match for her sister and friend's determination, so, dejectedly Amy stopped running and simply stood in the middle of the unforgiving forest. She could feel a wave of sadness wash over her as she could hear Jo's triumphant laughter above the trees.

Ruddy faced and tired Amy slowly made her way back to Orchard House, her anger and sadness mixing furiously in her stomach. There she would find Beth reading aloud by the fire and Meg calmly listening and finishing her needlepoint. Marmee was out with Hannah buying supplies and the littlest March felt all alone, although Meg instantly dropped her pattern and begged Amy tell her what happened. Sniffing and sulking, Amy could barely manage the anger in her voice as she pointedly said, "Jo."

Beth cast a sorry look at Amy then through the window where she was undoubtedly looking for her closest sister. Meanwhile Meg drew Amy up in her arms, seeming to know just what to do and say as she gently rubbed her back, trying to coax the aggravation out of her little sister.

And so it went for many years, Jo would often run and successfully hide from Amy when she wanted to keep Laurie for herself and out of the garret and Amy, shaken and cross would near retaliate on things dearest to Jo. She became less and less inclined to lash out when she was left out or ignored by the pair, but rather kept it inside, letting it develop into an austere passion that filtered out into virtually everything she did. The rest of her schooling was pushed by it, her artwork, her rapturous devotion to attracting the opposite sex, and the perfection that seemed to embody everything that was Amy March.


	2. One

_Summary:_ Yes, we all hate Amy. She burned Jo's book, she took Jo's trip to Europe and she _stole_ Laurie as well. But what if we looked through those situations through the youngest March girl's eyes. This story takes us through Amy's side of the story, longing for the love of a man devoted to her sister, acceptance and happiness. Mostly film based with hints of Jo and Laurie, leading up to the proposal.

_Author's Note:_ Thanks to the reviewers. :) I appreciate and cherish them immensely. So, here we are, the first chapter, exciting. ;) It needs a little explanation, so here goes: each chapter will follow a format of sorts – one memory from when Amy was younger and then a progression of the current story below, which will be separated by this: OOO. These "memories" will be mainly taken from the 1994 version of the movie, or may be originally created. So, I hope you enjoy it and as always comments, suggestions, feedback and whatever are highly welcomed and appreciated! Enjoy. :)

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**The Loves and Longings of Amy March**

One

"_We'll all grow up someday…we might as well know what we want."_

"What do we think of the boy?" Jo peered out of the window in the garret suspiciously engaged with the window on the house opposite theirs below. "Is he a captive like Smee in Nicolas Nickelby?"

"He looks lonely," sighed Beth over Jo's shoulder. Then with a nervous flutter turning to Meg, "You don't think he'll try to _call_?"

"Maybe he has a secret! A _tragic_ European secret…" Jo continued.

"He's had no upbringing at all, they say. He was reared in Italy among artists and vagrants." Meg added, recalling an overheard conversation of her mother's as Amy joined their huddle by the window.

"Doesn't he have a noble brow? If I were a boy I would want to look just like that." Jo said thoughtfully as she watched the boy turn away from the window and stride toward the piano. "Imagine, giving up Italy to live with that awful old man!"

At this, Amy's eyes squinted at the older boy in the window. Why, he _did_ have a noble brow. A broodingly fine brow perched above intense eyes and below thick waves of dark hair that seemed to shine even from so far away. He was rather handsome and mysterious. And Italy! Oh, she could imagine Italy, with stone cathedrals and sweet little gardens made for drawing and lounging. Sighing, she was brought back into the room at the mention of Christmas.

"Oh, it doesn't seem like Christmas this year without presents." Meg said grimly as she turned away from the window.

"I'm _desperate_ for drawing pencils." Amy finally spoke with a sigh that seemed to break her intent gaze on their mysterious neighbor down below. The moment she had them, she was intent to draw the boy's eyes. Intense and wild they seemed, even though she had never been close enough to see them properly, somehow she just knew.

"I wish I didn't have to work for Great Aunt March, that crabby old _miser_." Jo said rather bitterly as she turned away from the cool window after Amy.

"And you Beth, what's your Christmas wish?" Meg asked from her chair, in a brighter mood and crocheting.

"I'd like the war to end so father can come home." She replied sadly with a small smile.

"Oh, sweet Beth, we all want that." Jo said, wrapping a loving arm around her sister's shoulder.

How they did want that. Their father had not been at war for very long, but to the March sisters, it seemed like a lifetime since they had held their father's strong hand or kissed his kind and patient cheek. Moaning a trifle, Amy listened to her sisters good-naturedly chatter about pianos and great ambitions.

"Wait till I'm a writer. I'll buy you the best piano in creation."

"And if she doesn't you can come over and play mine." Amy exerted to Beth. "When I marry I'm going to be disgustingly rich." Amy cried, her mind racing wildly, dreaming up all the luxuries she'd have as she dropped sugar cubes into her freshly pour tea.

"And what if the man you love is a poor man and good, like father?" Meg questioned, looking intently at her youngest sister.

"Well…it isn't like being stuck with the dreadful nose you get." Amy pointed out, thinking of her own dreadful nose. "One does have a choice to whom one loves."

"You have a _lovely_ nose." Beth told her thoughtfully, which brought a smile to Amy's face.

"Well, I wouldn't marry for money." Jo said decidedly. "I mean, what if his business goes bust? Besides, down at the _Eagle_ they pay five dollars for each story they print. Why, I have ten stories in my head right now!"

Shaking her head at her sister's notions, Amy turned towards the window, her eyes falling on the Laurence mansion and the young musician inside. Sipping her tea, her mind wandered, thinking of the glorious life he must lead. He'd been schooled and socialized in Europe, now he was privately tutored and attended the most prestigious parties and functions. What a marvelous time he must have had, she decided as Jo made light of their own financial state.

Her eyes lingered on the boy, who was furiously playing away at some elegant piece no doubt, and turned to her sister. "We'll all grow up someday, Meg. We might as well know what we want."

Hearing the teasing snickers that emitted from her sisters, Amy turned back toward the window. She continued to watch him, turning pages and pounding keys, once or twice running his long fingers through his hair in frustration and determination to get the piece just right. Back to playing he went, his face set and serious. Her heart was heavy with longing and want as she looked down at the boy. She did know what she wanted - elegance and passion, mystery and romance. She wanted Theodore Laurence the Third.

OOO

"Oh what a fine day!" An eighteen year old Amy cried as she stepped through the garden, graceful and deliberately, careful not to step on any flowers. Faithfully checking each plant, she bent low between the rows to water and prune the dead leaves, for she meant to paint them the following week.

Her passion and skill for art, among other things, had abundantly increased over the years, while her self-interested nature had somewhat diminished. Amy was still Amy however for she was still more proud than Meg and could appreciate and enjoy finer things, an attribute that was displayed in her art. Not that she thought that they were magnificent, she had learned to be humble, but took pride in her abilities all the same as Jo took in her writing.

"Why, good afternoon Miss March." A cool masculine voice sounded behind her, making her nearly step on a daisy.

Whirling around, a bit flushed, Amy straightened to find Laurie standing before her with a roguish smirk upon his lips. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, realizing what his view must have been. Quickly shaking the idea from her head, she smoothly stepped over the row of plants separating them and smiled. "Laurie, home for the weekend?"

"Yes, yes. Miss March you miss not a detail." He said, stone faced, with a small flourish of his hand. A sudden look washed over his face and he stepped closer to her and took up her gloved hand. "Miss March, where _are_ my manners?" Bowing a touch, he slowly pressed his lips firmly to the back her hand, which despite her nerves, was steady.

Pulling it away quickly she seethed at his laughter, "It's Amy to you. And an immediate refrain from sarcasm would do you well Laurie _dear_; it's frightfully unbecoming for a man of _twenty-two_."

"Oh come Amy, darling. I was only joking." Laurie pleaded, his most penitent face on display.

Stubbornness had not fully left Amy as well. "Laurie, _darling_, have you ever been sincere a moment in your life?"

"_Amy_." Laurie began again, his tone more serious. "Amy, look at me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't poke fun. I shouldn't have."

"No, you shouldn't have." She said, granting his request, her voice calm as she noticed the basket in his hand. "What's that?" she asked curiously, breaking into his apology.

"Oh. Mr. Brooke - no - _John_ and I planned a little celebratory picnic for the March women. To celebrate Meg's wedding, of course." Laurie told her, feeling slightly ashamed of his previous actions. "Oh and Fred Vaughn, if you remember?"

"Yes, I remember Fred." Amy replied, her eyes now spotting the carriage sitting across the way, which no doubt carried Laurie's college friend. "Thank you for the picnic Laurie, Meg will be perfectly thrilled."

"Teddy? Teddy!" cried Jo, running from the woods, skirts damp and flowers in her hair.

Amy swallowed lightly and smiled in spite of her own feelings and sat quietly by, watching the two friends meet and embrace.

"Jo. Oh Jo, how have you been?" Laurie said excitedly, catching her up in his arms.

"Oh, fine, fine." She said rather hastily, fixing a flower in her hair. "How have _you_ been is the question. I haven't seen you in a nearly a month!"

"Not quiet so fine as you, Jo." He laughed, "Since exams are coming up soon, it seems the professors have doubled our workload, thus preventing me from getting away to see my dear friends." He cast a loving look at both of the March sisters.

"Yes, Laurie's brought a picnic, Jo, for all of us, Mr. Brooke and Fred Vaughn." Amy broke in with her sweetest smile. She did not begrudge Jo for Laurie's love, how could she? For their sisterly bond was much stronger than that of another friendship or of romance. But rather felt a small piece of her were chipped away every time she saw that deep longing in Laurie's eyes, the signal that he both tried to send to Jo but tried to mask as well, the signal of something further desired than camaraderie and friendship. For, if she knew her sister, Jo wouldn't return those feelings, at least not now. In turn, her sister would be frightened by the idea and scared off. Amy knew Marmee, Meg and Beth did not feel the same, but whether it be of her own feelings or intuition, Amy knew better.

"_Ah_, Fred Vaughn, eh?" Jo said all knowingly, exchanging looks with Laurie.

"Yes, I told him of my plans and he wanted to come as well." With a deafening yell, he called Fred out of hiding. "Fred!" Somewhere Mr. Brooke cringed.

"Yes, Laurie!" Fred matched as he got out of the carriage, pretended to fix something inside and then strode over to the group. He smiled particularly at Amy before turning to Laurie and clapping him on the back.

"Freddy, you remember Jo?" Laurie began the introductions, smirking when Fred made to kiss Jo's hand and she swiftly stuck out her hand for a shake. "And Amy."

"Oh, yes. Miss March, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance again." He smiled, before stooping and sincerely kissing her hand, his hand firmly curled around her fingers.

"Thank you Fred. You may call me Amy, if you like." She replied, curtsying ever so slightly, knowing she would get it from Jo and Laurie later on.

"Alright, Amy." Fred replied, smiling at her as if she was the only person there.

"Right. Now, where is Beth! And Meg, I will kiss the bride before John Brooke does." Laurie started, trying to make the situation light again. Amy threw him a grateful look.

"I believe Beth is with Hannah in the kitchen, Laurie. I'll take you to her." Amy replied, taking Laurie's arm.

"Yes, Laurie. We'll show you to the kitchen." Jo said rather comically. "You too Fred!"

And so they went, finding a delighted and slightly nervous Beth in the kitchen and a surprised and contented Meg in the parlor; who was thrilled about the picnic and set off to get John. The rest of the afternoon was pleasing. They set up by the lake, where they had often ice skated and swam as children, talking and laughing all afternoon. Meg curled up beside John, enjoying his presence and warmth. Jo and Laurie whispered, laughed, made faces at each other and talked, while Amy pretended not to care much as she made small talk with Fred and tried to focus on talking to Beth without making it seem that she didn't want Fred around. But every so often Amy and Laurie's eyes would meet, as she was watching them and he was checking on Fred Vaughn's proximity to making Amy uncomfortable, which Laurie knew was well possible as Fred had expressed how beautiful he thought Amy was. To his questioning glances, Amy would often smile, shrug, sigh or roll her eyes. Pleading was seen as Fred began to talk about suitors and did she have one. Amy didn't have to respond though as Laurie quickly interceded and asked Fred to go fishing with him. His friend reluctantly agreed and bowed out to Amy. "Thank you!" She mouthed behind Fred's back to which she received the sincerest of head nods.

As they walked toward the lake, Amy couldn't help but smile, it was just like Laurie to swoop in and save the day. He took pride and cared for all of the March sisters and desperately loved to be their hero. Sighing a bit, her thoughts and eyes turned to Jo, who now came over to join them. Poor Jo didn't realize what their Laurie would do for them and what he wanted to be for her. She was blinded by friendship and could only see that. But Amy could see more, for she too loved Laurie's friendship, only she longed to be closer to him. She longed to be free and natural, like Jo. She longed to run at Laurie and hug him, playfully tease and scold him with an easy air, come off vibrant and wild like Jo. Moaning inwardly, she smiled at Jo, then to Laurie who was happily holding up a fish for all to see. Yes, Amy March knew what she wanted and it wasn't Fred Vaughn.


	3. Two

_Summary:_ Yes, we all hate Amy. She burned Jo's book, she took Jo's trip to Europe and she _stole_ Laurie as well. But what if we looked through those situations through the youngest March girl's eyes. This story takes us through Amy's side of the story, longing for the love of a man devoted to her sister, acceptance and happiness. Mostly film based with hints of Jo and Laurie, leading up to the proposal.

_Author's Note:_ Ah, chapter two. :) First of all, thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed! As those of you who are writers know, it is one of the best feelings to have your ideas and writing out there and actually have people like them! So, in short, thank you! I'm informing you all as of now that I start my second semester of college on Tuesday, yay :( , so things will quickly get busy for me and the time in between new chapters will be longer. Therefore I'm going to write up a storm until then so I can have reserves. :) Also, I borrowed from the book in this chapter, as you'll see, and plan to in others, making this chapter both film and book based. So, with all of that said, here is chapter two, slightly longer and more intense than the first. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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**The Loves and Longings of Amy March**

Two

"_You don't need scores of suitors. You need only one...if he's the right one."_

"Ohh, where are they!" Amy sniffed impatiently to Beth, who was half awake, her voice sounding comically strange with the clothespin on the end of her nose.

Murmuring something that was quite inaudible, Beth turned over, arms flopping, and exhaled heavily. To this Amy sighed quite exasperatedly through her mouth and threw up her hands. "What good is staying up if no one will do it with you?" Amy muttered to herself as she left Beth and Jo's room and tip toed to the top of the stairs. There she lie, barely able to see the front door through the railing, until she heard the door open.

"Marmee?" Jo's voice filled the room. "Marmee, Meg's sprained – oh, Marmee this is Laurie, Mr. Laurence from across the way. Oh, but Meg's sprained her ankle and Laurie helped us home."

Amy could see Jo gesturing excitedly at the boy, who held an injured Meg up with an arm under her shoulders. Amy's eyes alighted with her own excitement as she surveyed them all, in particular, the boy, who looked absurdly handsome in his formal wear. Sighing Amy watched her mother take control of the situation, calm and assuring as she always did.

"Here, lean on me Meg. Thank you, Mr. Laurence that was very kind of you."

"Good bye Laurie!" Jo beamed as she moved to close the front door.

"Good night Mrs. March." He said dutifully, closing the outer door as well.

"Meg, where ever did you get these shoes?" Mrs. March inquired, leading her into the parlor.

Amy took this and the closing of the door as her signal to find out how the evening went and just how Meg had sprained her ankle. The youngest March flew down the stairs and into the parlor shortly after Jo. "Did you ride in _his_ carriage? Oh, you two have all the luck!" Amy nearly burst with curiosity. "Oh, Jo, was he very _romantic_?"

"Not in the slightest!" Jo laughed, moving to take off her cloak.

"I'm very much obliged to him, but he is a dreadful boy." Meg said from the chair, leg outstretched.

"Well, he did a good deed putting snow on this ankle." Mrs. March supplied as she looked over her daughter's grievance.

"_He_ put snow on your ankle?" Amy said rather dreamily, imagining he'd put snow on her ankle.

"To bed, Miss Amy." Mrs. March commanded, lightly snatching the clothespin, intended to reshape, off of her youngest girl's nose.

"With his own _hands_?" Amy continued excitedly, clutching the clothespin.

"Oh stop being so swoony." Jo cried incredulously, as if any girl was absurd to fawn over such a boy.

"I won't have my girls being silly about boys. _To bed_. Jo, dear?" Mrs. March declared sending Jo to make sure the task was completed.

Amy sighed a sigh of utter despair as she was gently pushed from the room by her older sister. "Everything lovely happens to Meg."

"Oh, yes indeed!" Meg laughed, in awe of Amy's logic.

"You shouldn't be soppy about Laurie any more than you should be soppy about those silly girls at school. We shall be good friends with him." Jo said happily, thinking of all the adventures they were sure to have.

"With the _boy_?" Amy asked turning to Jo on the stairs, her tone of voice making it sound as if it were perfectly acceptable to look and dream about a boy but never be friends with him. Though when she thought about it, the idea of being good friends with him made her stomach flutter.

"He's no boy. He's _Laurie_!"

And with that, Jo directed Amy toward her room and kissed her good night on the forehead. Going willfully somber to bed, Amy pulled back the covers and slipped beneath them, her eyes closing reluctantly until she began to think of "the boy". Dark hair and eyes swam through her mind as she imagined Laurie, a knight riding towards her on a white steed. He quickly descended and drew her up in his arms, kissing her ever so passionately. No, she decided, that wouldn't work; he'd have to kneel to reach her patient lips. Fading from the scene, a new one formed in her mind. They were sitting by a picturesque lake and the sun was going down, casting golden rays over his face. Swiftly, Laurie pressed his mouth to hers, stroking her golden ringlets as he did. This brought a smile to her face as she slowly opened her eyes once more, Laurie fading from it and the ceiling coming into view. Maybe they would be great friends and maybe he would be just as romantic and mysterious as she'd imagined. Maybe he'd sweep her off her feet and out of Concord to go sketch gardens in Italy. Just, maybe.

OOO

"Amy! Don't forget the flowers! And do pick them nicely so there won't be any empty patches for the ceremony." Mrs. March cried over the commotion of the wedding party that was preparing in their humble house.

"Yes, Marmee." Amy replied as she obtained the basket and headed for the garden which she had devotedly maintained.

That warm day in early June proved to be just as beautiful and calm as they had hoped. The back yard and garden were fragrant with blooms everywhere, the front was neatly manicured with the help of Laurie and Fred, and the interior of the house was decorated nicely by Beth and Amy (Jo had supervised and helped in the yard). The morning had come before they knew it, leaving spring in its shadow and fall in its distant memory. It was hard to believe that only four years ago they were all single and waiting, although most were still of that plight.

Meg remained nervously in her bedroom, being fussed over by her mother and Beth, smoothing her hand-made wedding dress and pinning her coiled hair. Jo remained a mystery of happiness and misery, for it had taken her a long time to get used to the idea of her sister marrying John Brooke and now that the day was finally here, she didn't know if she could bear it. Amy kneeled among the flowers, picking only the fullest and most beautiful blossoms from their stems. She was happy today, loving the excitement that spilled over onto every inhabitant of Orchard House, for everyone was bustling around, tidying up, baking, primping and cherishing every moment that would fill this special day.

It had been weeks since she'd seen Laurie or Fred Vaughn, and the prospect that she would encounter both today made her equally happy and nervous. She liked Fred alright, for she found his intelligence and propriety attractive, his self-assured attitude yet sometimes clumsy nature endearing. But he lacked passion, something she greatly appreciated and longed for, and understanding of hers for art. He understood that she liked it as a hobby, but never saw it as a need, a desire. This was something that they had almost come to blows about during his last visit, he'd frankly stated, in a matter of so many words, that he saw art as something pretty to look at, to possess and pull out to impress guests with. Amy took great offense to his notions and quickly saw to it - in so many words - that he understand that she did not feel the same. He amiably descended from his stance as he saw the fire in her eyes and politely changed the subject in hopes that she would not hold that against his intended courtship. But Amy did not forget and saw it as a potential stumbling block for anything they might be. To smooth things over, Fred, by way of Laurie, sent Amy a framed pressed flower, with a note that read, "Not even nature's beauty could compare with yours – art or otherwise."

Though Jo and Laurie poked fun at her for it, Amy took the compliment and criticism in stride and sent a note of thanks back with Laurie. And the former took it upon himself to invite Fred to Meg's wedding, landing her in the current situation. She wasn't much concerned about it, though it was a bit taxing having to entertain on such a day, one that should've been carefree and easy, but Amy was decidedly up to the challenge, as she picked the last rose from the garden and headed back indoors.

"Christopher Columbus, Amy. What took you so long?" Jo inquired in the kitchen, taking a few flowers to put around the base of the cake made by Hannah. "Marmee wants you to set up the tables outside, do you mind very much?"

"No, I don't mind at all Jo." Amy just finished when Laurie came bustling into the room, hugging Jo loosely and moving to kiss Amy on the forehead, to which Amy deftly hid her pleasure.

"How are the March women today?" Laurie asked, as Fred came into the room smiling brightly at Amy, "Not too down I hope?" He asked pointedly to Jo.

"Oh, she'll get over it." Amy said smartly, nodding to Jo.

All Jo could do was nod however, as John Brooke came into the room fussing with his bowtie. "On second thought, Amy, I'll set the –"

"Oh, I've got it Jo." Amy smiled as she exited the room, Fred on her heels.

"Jo really doesn't care for John then?" Fred asked once they were safely in the garden.

"Oh, well…" Amy began, spreading a white table cloth over the circular surface. "I don't know that she doesn't _care _for him, it's just that-"

She was stopped by the look he gave her, proclaiming that he knew better, to which she responded. "She'll learn to love him. He's a good man."

"As good as Laurie?" He quipped, making her drop a fork.

"Pardon?" She managed just above a whisper, a bit distressed.

"You know, Laurie speaks of Jo often. I think he means for her to be the next March bride." Fred told her happily, leaning forward on the table.

"Oh, is that so?" Amy kept a calm façade but felt as if she were loosing air. "Excuse me for a moment."

And with that Amy scurried away into the parlor, leaving the other tables unfinished and Fred to stand unsurely in the summer's warmth. _'I think he means for her to be the next March bride.'_ Amy's lungs were rising and collapsing with a ferocity that she had never known. Married? Jo and Laurie? Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes. If it was to be, she decided, then she had to put an end to this _silly_ infatuation that had clouded her mind for years. No more wishing she could hold Laurie or run her fingers over his chest. No more longing to be closer to him, no more wishing that he could somehow see anyone other than Jo. No more. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash, a cry and a hearty peal of laughter from Laurie. "Jupiter Ammon! Jo's upset the cake again!" she heard in the distance. Letting everything out in a long and rueful breath, Amy left the parlor and went out into the hall to greet the newly arrived batch of cousins and run interference for the ones in the kitchen.

The rest of the morning went as flawlessly as possible. Jo and Hannah fixed the cake as best they could. Beth and Mrs. March prepared Meg beautifully, along with the rest of the house. And Amy finished dressing the tables, with Fred hovering over her shoulder and a sick feeling churning in her stomach. But she resolved to let it go, as it was hard to stay single minded when there was so much to do. The ceremony, a simple but sweet one, went off without the smallest snag and Meg and John stood happily under the wooden arch as the wedding party circled around them and sang "For the Beauty of the Earth". Amy couldn't help but watch Laurie. He was fixed on Jo, whose hand she held, making faces at her and trying to cheer her up. The feeling in her stomach intensified until she looked away, smiled and carried on with the song.

Late morning dipped into early afternoon as the guests, family and bride and groom settled down at the tables to enjoy lunch and a nicely rebuilt cake. The afternoon lazily stretched on and soon faded into a modest reception, danced to by Mr. March's violin. Meg and John took the first dance, soon to be accompanied by Jo and Laurie, Beth and Mr. Laurence, Amy and Fred and more cousins and relatives. Fred's hand was cold in Amy's, something she couldn't help concentrating on as Jo and Laurie whisked by them playfully, making everyone else's dancing look quite dull. After an agonizingly quick-paced waltz, Mr. March instructed everyone to change partners, which saddled Jo up with John (much to her dismay), Meg up with Fred and Amy up with Laurie, as both Mr. Laurence and Beth decided to sit this one out, one out of tire and the other out of fright.

As the music began Laurie, who settled one hand on Amy's waist and the other in her hand, lead the pair smoothly away from Fred and Meg, for which Amy was grateful. The feeling in her stomach was forced away by butterflies which fluttered rapidly without end, making it difficult for her to look straight into his eyes.

"How goes it with Fred?" Laurie asked, a playful smile upon his lips.

"Oh, fine. He's a bit…intense. He's been with me all morning." Amy said looking at their hands which made her think of how warm Laurie's felt around hers.

"That's Fred alright. When he finds something he wants-" Laurie stopped short. "You know…he wants you right?"

Amy looked up at him smiling a bit forcedly. "All too well."

Laurie's expression showed surprise, which he assured her of when he pulled her closer, leaning down to her ear. "Does Miss March not return the affections of Mr. Vaughn?"

Amy breathed lighter than usual. He was _so_ close. "I don't recall saying that, Mr. Laurence."

Sounding a familiar noise of disbelief, he rose straight again but held her at the same position. Almost defensively, she thought, as she saw his gaze turn to Fred. His tone and expression grew more serious. "Amy, he means to _marry_ you."

Marriage? The sick feeling in her stomach soon over rid the butterflies once more. Jo and Laurie flashed through her mind once more. No, she couldn't enjoy this dance with Laurie. He would always be Jo's Laurie. It was written in the books. "Amy?" She was suddenly stiff in his hands.

"What?" Amy asked, Laurie's face coming back into view. Was he closer than before?

"Are you alright?" He asked, examining her eyes, you could always tell from her eyes.

"Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine." Her voice grew softer with each word.

"_Amy_ –"

"Everyone wish the bride and groom safe travel!" Beth cried, looking absolutely content. Amy envied her.

Dropping Laurie's hand, she looked at him once more before racing over to Meg and hugging her deeply, tears forming in her eyes. "I love you, Meg. And wish you all the happiness, you too John."

Pulling back, Meg examined her sister's face. "Amy, don't cry darling. I'll only be down the road. Come visit me tomorrow, hmm?"

Amy nodded before kissing Meg on the forehead and clasping John's hand, trying to look desperately happy for them. But all this talk of marriage had made her weary and she'd quite had her fill, she decided, as she took her place by Aunt March. Laurie was sure not to follow her here, as Aunt would have a fit if he tried to antagonize her any more.

Wiping the tears of _joy_ from her face, she waved good-bye to the happy couple with everyone else, trying to look straight ahead. She knew Laurie was watching her. And as Jo pulled at his hands to dance to the cheery jig her father was now playing, she could see the look of regret on his face. But Jo quickly put an end to that, poking him in the side and demanding that he chin-up and dance like a gentleman should. He lingered only a moment before falling in step with Jo, though subdued as he saw Fred come behind Amy and rest his hands on her shoulder, leaning in to smell her hair. "Isn't marriage divine?"

"Indeed." Amy murmured, not looking at him, wishing he'd go away.

But he didn't go away until much later in the evening, spending the day making small talk with her and amusing her with tales of Harvard. He didn't leave her side but one time, taking it upon himself to help Mr. March break down the table and chairs. Amy took this as her opportunity to get away and obtain some fresh air, hurriedly going to the front of the house where no one was. Sitting on the steps, she laid her hands across her silvery dress and watched the last rays of sunlight scatter the trees. Her moment was not spared from interruption as two fingers from behind her pinched the end of her nose.

Whipping around rather quickly she found herself face to face with Laurie who had a mischievous look on his face. "Laurie," the relief was apparent in her voice.

Moving to sit beside her, he leaned in to her until their shoulders were touching. "Mr. Vaughn has been called away on some very important business. He had to leave immediately for Cambridge."

"_Oh Laurie_. Oh, thank you Laurie. He'd only just left me." Amy sighed, feeling freer than she had all afternoon.

"You're welcome." He said, smiling and straightening back up. "About Fred –"

"Laurie, _please_. I really don't want to –"

"Amy, you can't continue to court him if you don't intend to marry him… if you don't love him." Laurie cut in, overriding her wishes, with a serious quiver in his voice.

Amy closed her eyes briefly, almost wishing Laurie wasn't looking at her intensely as he was now. Turning to him, their faces only inches apart, she responded. "And how am I to know that?"

"You just…" Laurie began, his brow unfurling. "You just know. I know that isn't much help dear Amy, but if it's right you'll know. You'll feel it, in your stomach or your bones or something. I don't know. Jo could put this much better, maybe you should be having this conversation with her?"

His good-natured smile was wiped away one moment and returned another as Amy asked rather quickly, "Do you intend to make Jo 'the next March bride'?" Her heart was pounding rapidly and she didn't know if she could handle the answer.

"Yes," Laurie burst with excitement, adding with curiosity, "Fred told you didn't he? That sly devil."

For the second time that day, Amy couldn't breathe. "Oh, Laurie…" She whispered, leaning onto his shoulder.

Moving his arm, he wrapped it around her, pulling her close. "Isn't this wonderful? We'll be brother and sister, like we always should have been."

His words collided into Amy harder than any other that day. So, this was it then. It was final, set. Laurie was to ask Jo for her hand. She and Laurie would be family and all her silly dreams would end. He would never see her as anything but Jo's little sister, _his_ little sister. Tears rolled down her face, sliding on to his hand. He murmured something about tears of joy and kissed her hair. Amy shuddered, wishing for everything in the world that Laurie hadn't confirmed her fears. That he was holding her tight and kissing her head for another reason, because he wanted to, because he needed her close like she needed him. She didn't attempt to shake herself from impropriety, from loving a man committed to her sister; she would do that tomorrow or the next, when it was more of a reality that things might change forever. Amy placed a small but feverish kiss on Laurie's arm, as she had the night he'd drove her to Aunt March's. She felt now it was the only place she would ever kiss him. The only place where he would know how she loved him.


	4. Three

_Summary:_ Yes, we all hate Amy. She burned Jo's book, she took Jo's trip to Europe and she _stole_ Laurie as well. But what if we looked through those situations through the youngest March girl's eyes. This story takes us through Amy's side of the story, longing for the love of a man devoted to her sister, acceptance and happiness. Mostly film based with hints of Jo and Laurie, leading up to the proposal.

_Author's Note_: Wow! Talk about long time coming…lol I've actually been working off and on on this chapter for a few months, but here it is, finally, completed and ready for you guys. : ) Thank you so much for your patience and for sticking by this story! I can't explain how much I appreciate it! Also, thank you so much to my beta reader GiddyGirlie for all of her time and advice! This wouldn't have been completed without her help. Although this chapter doesn't have a whole lot of new action, I feel that it perpetuates Amy's feelings a bit and sets up the next chapter nicely. So, I hope y'all feel the same. : ) Anywho, enjoy! And thanks so much again! The next chapter should be soon to come.

* * *

**The Loves and Longings of Amy March**

Three

"_Do you love Laurie more than you love me?"_

"Oh, dear countess, pray for me, for I have sinned against me self and me brother Rodrigo!" Meg cried to the cat perched above her.

"You've got to say sinned as if you've really _sinned_!" Director Jo commanded, pacing the room.

"Sinned…_sinned_!" Meg practiced in different inflections, trying to get it just right.

"Rodrigo!" Jo cued to Amy, who entered the scene with a dramatic flourish of her arms and body. "You've arrived, seeking the Duke of Lancaster."

"Hark, ye! Who goes there?" Jo continued in character, squinting and placing a hand to her forehead. Then hurriedly to Meg she cried, "Quick, the cymbals. Lights! _It's Rodrigo!_"

After resuming her dance, Amy sighed and dramatically lie down on the sofa behind her. Causing Jo to cry in anguish, "Rodrigo!"

"I want to be Lady Violet," Amy sighed, stretching out wearily before bolting up in protest and crossing her arms neatly over her chest. "I'm _exhaustefied_ of being the boy."

"_Play_ is the _thing_, Amy," Jo supplied, masking her impatience with logic. "You're too little to be Lady Violet."

"Here," Beth held the caped feline with resolution. "Be the Countess de Montesquieu."

"You don't have any lines!" Amy continued bitterly.

"Besides, who would be our Rodrigo?" Meg asked, playfully throwing Rodrigo's hat at Amy who picked it up and tossed it back forcefully.

"Gentlemen," Jo cleared her throat, commanding the attention of everyone in the garret. "I propose the admission of a new member to our theatrical society. Theodore Laurence. We'll put it to a vote."

"Nay," Amy, who had perked up remarkably at the mention of Laurie's name, said pointedly. Thinking it would be quite improper - though exciting - to have him in the club, she finished, "He'll laugh at our acting and poke fun at us later!"

"He'll think it's only a game," Beth worried from the corner.

"He won't, upon my word as a gentleman!"

"Jo, when it's only ladies we don't guard our conduct in the same way," Meg reasoned as she fussed with her stockings.

"We bare our souls and tell the most _appalling_ secrets," Amy added, thinking of the horrors that would afflict her life if the Laurence boy knew her secrets.

"He would find us improper," Meg agreed.

"Oh, Teddy would do nothing of the sort. Oh, _please_," Jo begged. "Let's try him shall we?"

And with three knocks from Jo against a beam, Laurie himself popped out of a small cupboard, sending all the girls - except Jo - running into the corner screaming _"Josephine March!", _"Jo, you_ traitor!" _and "Jo, how_ could _you?" Trying to keep the younger ones modest, Meg stood in front, covering her chest with the folds of her dress. Amy however inched toward the head of the group, leaving Beth behind them both with a mixed expression of worry and fear on her face.

"Fellow artists, may I present myself as an actor, a musician, and a loyal and very humble servant of the club," Laurie said hastily, jogging lightly from his corner to better seen by the girls. He wore a sincere but playful smirk on his face that Amy couldn't help but trust.

"We'll be the judge of that," Jo smiled, trying to remain impartial.

"In token of my gratitude and as a means of promoting communication between adjoining nations - shouting from windows being forbidden - I shall provide a post office in our hedge, to further encourage the baring of our souls and the telling of our most _appalling_ secrets," He said, with a look at Amy that made her smile, blush and want to die all at the same time. His tone now turned serious, his dark eyes lingering on each of the girls. "I do pledge _never_ to reveal what I receive in confidence here."

This seemed to be enough for Meg too, as she stepped out from their huddle and placed the hat that had once donned Amy's head on to his. "Well, then. Do take your place Rodrigo."

"_Sir_ Rodrigo," Jo resumed her character, pleased, as a low bow among her sisters was imitated all around the garret.

And so Laurie was inducted into the club, with each March sister beaming at him through their costumes, tilting their hats and holding up their dresses in a curtsy. Amy soon got used to telling Laurie her most appalling secrets and marveled at how seriously he stuck by his words. Always nodding with a furrowed brow, he listened to her and all her wishes, never making her feel as if they were too far reaching or silly. And if he felt that way, he certainly hid it from her well, for he cherished the opportunity that the girls had given him and was not about to make himself seem ungrateful for being closer to them all.

Amy enjoyed the talks she shared with Laurie, and soon discovered his true being, one that was not so true to the Laurie of her daydreams. Oh, he was kind and chivalrous, always looking out for their best interests, but he had more depth and sincerity that she'd ever imagined. He soon lost his mystery, for her sapphire eyes could see right through to his heart, a good and well-meaning one that enjoyed a bit of mischief and was glad and able to satisfy his cravings for it with Jo and the girls. And Jo was right when she said he wasn't romantic in the slightest, for he wasn't, only passionate about music and having fun. But this pleased Amy more than if he _had _come riding up on a white steed, swept her off her feet and out of Concord. She enjoyed his simple nature that would seem out of place with his wealth if he hadn't the heart that he did, always giving and sharing, attributes that all of the March women appreciated.

Amy soon learned to love him in a way that was true and honest, not for his handsome eyes and hair or for what he could give her, but for all that he was, for all of his goodness. This new development in her heart did not reach her mind until she was sixteen and Laurie went away for another semester at Harvard. That fall was the longest of her life, for the summer had been so full of adventures and romps that when Laurie was gone it seemed as if all of the life had left Orchard House. She did not feel at peace until Thanksgiving, when he came home to them.

That holiday Amy watched "their boy" with an intensity that racked her very being. She longed to hold him close until he went away again, but he merely patted her on the head and told her how much she'd grown. This deeply insulted the youngest March and she soon learned to feel more slighted when he pulled at Jo's dress and whispered things to her that no one else knew. Amy only felt her confusion grow, when Laurie began to lean close to her as well and take up her hand and tug her hair down from its neat nest. For Laurie - as Amy well knew - loved to flirt. He entertained several girls at school, and it infuriated her. She soon begun to think that college had changed their boy and he was no longer _their_ boy at all but _everyone's_ boy and he liked it that way.

But Laurie, as always, surprised the March sisters, for when he came home for Christmas he was rather subdued and spoke less and less of the girls in Cambridge. Jo thought it amounted to being tired from exams and that he was "finally growing up", but Amy knew better. She could see the new found longing in Laurie's eyes, deeper than ever before. A quiet passion, that burned slowly and ached. It consumed everything he was, every thought and every action. The passion was for Jo and Jo alone. And though he hid it behind jokes and romps, Amy could see it building and smoldering, waiting. And it ached in her too, the hope of holding him in her arms seemed to be dashed away and all she could do was stand by and watch.

OOO

"Here, take this one Fred," Laurie said, passing a bouquet to his friend who was staring rather intently at the happy March girl sitting at the flower table.

"Yeah, yeah," Fred smiled, taking the bouquet lazily from Laurie's hand, promptly pulling one out and sticking it behind Amy's left ear. Laurie cast him quite a look for that one.

"Thank you, Fred," Amy said kindly, touching the flower. "Really, boys thank you all!" Amy beamed graciously, looking around at all of Laurie's friends.

The Chester's fair had begun fine enough, until Amy had been purposefully pushed from the art table to the flower table by a jealous May Chester and her mother. Amy had moved agreeably but resented the fact that she had been moved from her carefully created table out of sheer spite, but the littlest March took it in stride, moving courteously along with her creations. After working furiously at the flower table, making it "charming" as Mrs. Chester had advised, Amy retreated to Orchard House tired, cold and frustrated, as everything in creation had seemed to wrong on that blessed day.

The following day was just as good to Amy, as hardly a soul stopped by the table and the flowers had begun to wilt long before nightfall when she recoiled to the comfort of her family.

Upon hearing her sister's troubles, Jo soon enlisted Laurie and a group of his friends to intercede on Amy's behalf, to which they readily agreed, Laurie having his gardener prepare their best flowers. So now, Amy sat in a wilderness of flowers surrounded by Laurie's dearest friends who were strategically buying up every flower and fawning over her, some more genuine than others.

Amy craned her neck to see Jo chatting with May, no doubt praising Amy's table and making May feel retched for making her move. Behind her, she felt two large hands clap down on the back of her shoulders and lean in rather closely. Amy stiffened slightly until she heard the voice, "So, Miss March. Are we pleased?" Laurie whispered in her ear, watching the bustling room from her angle.

"Very much so Mr. Laurence," Amy said coolly, relishing in the feeling of having his hands on her near bare shoulders. Turning her head slightly, she could see his smirk from the corner of her eye. "Thank you Laurie, this wouldn't have been possible if you hadn't –"

"Not another word of it Amy," Laurie said humbly, patting a shoulder. "The best of friends do things for each other and I'm happy to do so. You know you March sisters are my dearest pets."

The warmth of his touch and breathing made her tremble, although she wished not to indulge her fantasies any longer, seeing as Laurie had made his intentions clear not so long ago. It had been weeks since Meg's wedding and the anticipation of Jo's reaction to the fateful question was torture for Amy, who felt as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pushing all thoughts of the impending future to the side, Amy shrugged and smiled, although Laurie could not see it. "Yes, I know Laurie. And we are ever so grateful –"

"Ah ah ah…" Laurie murmured, pressing a finger to her lips. "No more of that Miss March."

"Right," Amy smiled as he moved from behind her as Jo came up, bursting with good news from May Chester's table.

"All of your pretty trinkets have been sold Amy!" Jo told her sister, who beamed and was rather touched upon hearing of all the wonderful thing's May had reported about Amy's work and kindness.

"Now, gentlemen, I want you to go and do your duty by the other tables as generously as you have by mine, especially the art table," Amy said, attracting all of the boys' attentions, especially Fred who quickly sauntered away with a full pocket of money.

"Charge, Chester, charge!' is the motto for that table, but do your duty like men, and you'll get your money's worth of art in every sense of the word," Jo said, smiling at Amy's little table and the attentive boys around it.

"To hear is to obey, but March is fairer far than May," said Parker, one of Laurie's smaller friends who had taken a liking to Jo.

"Very well, my son, for a small boy!" Laurie remarked with a pat on Parker's head, extinguishing any coolness the boy might have had with Jo.

Amy quickly grasped Laurie's arm, before he too proudly walked off, drawing him close before whispering, "Buy the vases," To which he promptly nodded and acted upon, flirtatiously winking at Amy as he did so.

Amy couldn't help but smile tenderly at him and the rest of the boys, for they truly divided and conquered the rest of the room. It was rather entertaining watching Laurie smile and lean in to May, picking up her trinkets, inspecting them gingerly and then with a pound of his fist, lay his money on the table, demanding everything.

The rest of the evening went very much so like this and by the end all of the boys were rather burdened by everything that they had bought, running out of places to put things. The day had gone smashingly well and when Amy got home she found Laurie in front of the fire place.

"The reward of merit for a magnanimous March," He said heartily, his arms pointing at each vase filled with beautiful bouquets from the table.

A broad smile pervaded Amy's face, her eyes lighting on Laurie, who looked at her with pride and admiration. Despite what was surely around the corner – his possible engagement to Jo, the alteration of a familiar friendship and the thoughts and feelings that must be extinguished once and for all – Amy couldn't help but soak up the attention and praise. Coming from Laurie it was sweet and warm like honey to her lips.

Her eyes broke away from his direction as her sisters too saturated her with praise and good speech, for her actions and maturity. Their smiles stayed long after Amy had silenced them with modest words and gratitude. They all kissed and hugged her, feeling as if their once spoiled and vengeful sister had finally ridded her character of such flaws that caused anguish amongst the four. Squeezing her sister with particular happiness, Jo fluttered upstairs soon after, bidding farewell to Laurie with a well-deserved hug and a peck on the cheek before she did. Amy stiffened slightly, though she knew she had no right, as Jo and Beth left her to thank Laurie more for his kind deeds.

Watching them retreat, Laurie's hand ventured to his cheek, where not so long ago Jo's happy lips had brushed. Clearing his throat, his eyes wandered over to Amy, who stood, hands clasped, by the window. His words came out in a sigh. "Have I ever seen such a glorious day as this?"

"That I could not tell you, dear Laurie," Amy said politely, masking her jealousy with a neat smile.

"Oh, how wonderful it is Amy!" Laurie cried, suddenly sweeping her up into a lively dance, his hands catching her waist as he paraded her around the room. "I've never felt so…so alive."

Amy's heart was awash with happiness and agony as Laurie's hands clutched at her waist, spinning her around the room gaily. "Indeed, I've never seen you so…enthused." The words hung about her mouth as Laurie abruptly stopped spinning.

"Oh dear Amy, it's so much more than enthusiasm. It's…it's -"

"Love?" The word forced its way out of her throat, her eyes focused on his neck tie, which was hopelessly crooked.

"Yes," He breathed, a smile curved upon his lips. Pressing those lips to Amy's forehead swiftly, he exhaled slowly, sending a shiver down Amy's spine and into her toes; every nerve tingled. "You have no idea what it means that I can confide in you. I might have gone mad otherwise."

Her breath grew shallow as he hugged her to him.

"Yes," She said softly, grateful he couldn't see the distraught expression that encompassed her face.

She could almost feel the wide grin on his face radiating on to her head. Sighing, he pulled away, holding her at arm's length.

"Really Amy, I thank you. And I shall see you in a few weeks, hmm?"

Nodding, she smiled back at him, her eyes taking in the overjoyed expression that illuminated his features. "Goodnight, Amy."

Watching him turn, with a nod of his head, Amy's smile faded from her face. He was almost to the door. "…Laurie!"

He turned to the side inside the doorframe. "Yes?"

"Oh, I…Goodnight. I didn't say goodnight is all."

An amused smile spread above his jaw line, one which had just been so seriously clinched. "Yes, goodnight Miss March."


	5. Four

_Summary:_ Yes, we all hate Amy. She burned Jo's book, she took Jo's trip to Europe and she _stole_ Laurie as well. But what if we looked through those situations through the youngest March girl's eyes. This story takes us through Amy's side of the story, longing for the love of a man devoted to her sister, acceptance and happiness. Mostly film based with hints of Jo and Laurie, leading up to the proposal.

_Author's Note: _Hello again : ) First of all, I want to thank every person who read and reviewed, I really appreciate all of your kind words! And again, thanks to my beta, GiddyGirlie who had helped me immensely, not on just this chapter but on future ones as well. Secondly, I'd like to point out that I used ideas and dialogue from the book in the last chapter. Which I inadvertently failed to mention! And also, in this chapter, a great deal of ideas/dialogue are used from the movie. Oh and one last thing. I was reading over the summary up top and realized that it could be misleading…the story will lead up through Laurie's proposal to Amy! I'm sorry for any confusion or false hope it may have caused! : ( And to tell the truth, since writing this story, my attitude towards Amy has improved and I don't exactly hate her. ;) Anywho, on to the story! Enjoy!! : )

* * *

**The Loves and Longings of Amy March**

Four

"_One does have a choice to whom one loves."_

"I want to go to the theatre. I never get to go _anywhere_," Amy's voice angrily trembled over Beth's piano playing as she watched her sisters prepare to go to see _Seven Castles_, frantically searching for the appropriate items.

"You're too little. Beth, where in tarnation are Marmee's opera glasses?" Jo cried, digging in a chest among blankets and spare candles.

Beth simply shrugged, her focus shifting back to the piano and trying to tune Amy's voice out.

"I'm not too little, you're just hogging Laurie!" Amy spat over her book, her glare fixed on Jo who had moved from the chest and begun searching the box above the piano.

"Oh, please, _can't_ I go?" Amy was close to tears, nothing seemed more torturous than having to stay home and work fractions while her sisters went out on a perfectly elegant evening, to the theatre no less.

"Oh, Amy. I'm sorry, Laurie only reserved four seats. Do I look too shabby?" Meg inquired as she patted her hair.

"Aw Josephat, Meg! This isn't a carnation, it's just Laurie and that awful _Mr. Brooke_."

"Jo, can't you ask Laurie to get another ticket?" Amy sniffled, picking at the edge of her book.

"No!" Jo said, her temper rising as she continued to search for the opera glasses.

"You have a cold dear," Meg said sweetly to Amy, "Rest you eyes."

"Evangeline and I will make you some ginger tea," Beth offered as she stroked one of their kittens, trying to lighten the mood that was brewing between her sisters.

But Jo only fueled it more, flipping through Amy's school books. "You're weeks behind in algebra. Now, I want you to do all of the pages that I've marked. I won't have a sister who's a lazy ignoramus." Dropping the books into Amy's lap, she finished, "And don't sulk, you look like a pigeon."

Amy rolled her eyes as she cooed like the bird, hoping to annoy Jo. When she didn't give rise and simply walked towards the door, Amy whimpered, glowering at the books as if that would change matters. Soon after, Meg came by and swiftly kissed Amy on the head, whispering, "Bye."

Groaning, Amy turned around in her chair, watching as her sisters as they tied their bonnets and adjusted their gloves, opera glasses forgotten. Jo playfully stuck her tongue out at Amy, offering a devious smile to her sister's glare.

"You'll be sorry for this Jo March!" Amy seethed, tossing the algebra books to the floor, her glare following the girls until they had closed the front door.

An hour later, after forcedly dragging through a few problems in her book, her own words rung in her ears. Closing her eyes briefly and letting her imagination take over, she left the comfort of Orchard House, blocking out the sound of the crackling fire beside her.

She was now at the theatre, the stage and actors before her, the lights dimmed. They were in their own private box. Laurie smiled beside her, offering his arm, which she took, her head resting on his shoulder, golden curls spilling across the black jacket. She imagined his arm tighten around hers as she borrowed his opera glasses. The show was spectacular, the colors and the lights. Looking up at Laurie again, she imagined she saw a flicker on the other side of him. Craning her neck to see…_Jo_.

Amy shook her head violently, painfully finding herself back in their living room. Sulking, Amy sighed, shoving her assignment away. Jo's presence even plagued her daydreams.

Jo, Amy imagined, was undeservedly enjoying a show _and_ Laurie. It simply wasn't fair! The thought raged on in Amy's mind…_"You'll be sorry for this Jo March!" _Standing up, Amy began to pace the room, arms crossed, hair hanging loosely at her shoulders. With one last look at her forgotten assignment, Amy took to wandering the house.

Marmee, who was of no comfort in the parlor, merely told her that she would have her time. In the room Jo shared with Beth, she was yawned at by her sister and given a sweet pat on the head. These things only made her more angry.

While in her sisters' room Amy's eye fell on Jo's newest play, snatching it up before she took to pacing the whole of the upstairs. Through the hall, up to the garret, in and out of every other room she strode, mocking Jo's carefully crafted characters under her breath.

Back in her room, she turned each page roughly, even Jo's written word getting under her skin. Amy knew she should put it back where it belonged, where it should be, but something in her held on to those pages, thinking, twisting, slipping and…a cold realization slid over Amy as she looked downward, the whole of Jo's manuscript now ablaze and smoldering. The act extinguished Amy's anger, comprehending exactly what she had done. Guilt washed over her body, sending a cool shiver down her spine. She was as good as dead.

Turning slowly, she walked silently to her bed, knowing what was going to happen when Jo arrived and how things would be for a while. Her impulsive nature never did her any favors and now she was going to pay for it. Slipping beneath the sheets, she lay there huddled for a while, her eyes drifting to the fireplace, the shrinking manuscript.

Taking up a book, she began to brace herself. Her thoughts drifted from the pages before her, thinking of Jo and Laurie. Would it always be like this? Living in her sister's shadow, never being able to match the jubilance and natural magnetism that lay between the older two. Never being able to have that free and open relationship with him.

Downstairs, she heard the door open and voices filling the foyer. She braced herself for the worst. She knew what was to come.

OOO

Amy tried her best to focus, but it seemed as if all the universe was willing her to be distracted in some way or another. The birds were singing merrily in the trees, her friends were murmuring things to one another and Aunt March was speaking not so quietly to her painting instructor about her future in art.

"So, you feel our Amy has talent?" Aunt March's raspy voice resounded behind her.

The china cup she was holding remained perfectly still in her grasp, the purple flower's blandness shrinking with each stroke of her brush.

"Oh! Miss March excels at drawing. But you know, her landscapes lack emotion. I definitely feel Amy would benefit from further study, but she won't get it around here." The woman said to Aunt March as she adjusted her cloak.

"Where would you suggest?" Questioned Aunt March.

"Well, Cape Cod has a fine artist's colony, but Europe. Europe is the best place."

Amy nearly dropped her cup as she listened for Aunt March's reply, a steady, "I see."

Amy's head was in a whirl. She would have gladly settled for Cape Cod, but Europe. Europe was divine. She would simply die for Europe. A inaudible squeal went around the table among her friends, to which Amy smiled and made a noise as to quiet them.

"Amy? After you finish that cup, come and see me dearest," Aunt March said gruffly, getting up to head inside.

"Yes, Aunt March."

Amy felt as if there was an electric current racing through her body as she carefully finished the last petals on the cup and made to head indoors where her mother and Aunt March were waiting, no doubt. After exchanging happy glances with her friends and nodding politely to her instructor, she bounced along the garden, nearly running into Laurie on her way inside.

Cheeks ruddy and face despondent, he gave her one cursory look before pushing through the gate. He didn't look back.

"Laurie?" she called futilely after him.

"Amy? Your mother and I are in here."

"Coming, Aunt March," Amy responded, her eyes still on Laurie, who was entering his home.

Sighing a little, she pushed her concerned thoughts aside as she entered the parlor where her mother and Aunt sat patiently. Smiling at her mother, she began to focus on the matter at hand: Europe. Oh, Europe! She could feel butterflies in her stomach already.

"Aunt March has told me how well you are doing with your studies," Mrs. March began, smiling proudly at her youngest.

"Yes, I love to paint very much. And I deeply appreciate all your faith in me and monetary contributions, Aunt," Amy smiled politely at the old woman.

"It's all very well. It's paying off. Your talent is far above that of all those silly girls in your class."

"Thank you, Aunt March." Amy dipped her head, holding her tongue and leaving it at that.

Nodding quickly, Aunt March moved on, not wishing to prolong things. "Your instructor has told me that the best place to further develop your abilities is Europe and since I'm going to Paris next month I think the most practical thing is for you - my current companion - to go with me. There you will have access to the most elite classes and the finest instruction. It's very sensible."

Sensible? Paris? It seemed as if it were the farthest thing from sensible for a March girl to be whisked off to Paris! Amy could barely restrain her excitement, not daring to express herself too freely, for Aunt March didn't take to mush. "Oh, Aunt March! That would be unbelievably lovely. Thank you, so much."

"Just doing what would suit us both best. We've grown quite accustomed you my dear." By we, Amy knew she meant herself and her dog.

The youngest March found it hard not to smile as Aunt March began again. "Now, Amy. I'll ask you to leave us to sort out the particulars. Off you go."

Curtsying slightly and exchanging pleasant looks with her mother, Amy took up several of her paintings from the coffee table that Aunt March had no doubt laid out to judge her talents, and floated out of the room.

Smiling all the way, Amy headed up to the garret to properly stow her work, hoping to share her good news along the way. But neither Beth nor Jo were to be found upstairs. Thinking nothing of it, Amy pushed through the door to the attic, humming softly to herself, stopping abruptly when she saw Jo huddled up by Beth, a mournful look upon her face.

"Jo?' Amy's voice was saturated with concern. "Are you ill?"

Beth answered for her, "She has refused Laurie."

Amy's heart nearly stopped, now feeling foolish for not knowing when she'd seen Laurie. "Well…I'm sure she can take it back. It's just a misunderstanding." She almost didn't believe the words that came bursting out of her own mouth.

"No," Jo murmured, Beth's arm wrapped around her shoulder.

Beth shook her head for further confirmation as the room grew silent and the muffled sound of Laurie's impassioned piano playing floated in, taking its place.

"Oh, listen to him," Jo moaned, her eyes trailing toward the window. "I must get away…"

"Of course," Amy jumped into action, her heart broken and divided for Jo and Laurie. "Aunt March is going to France -"

"France!" Jo nearly jumped to her feet, leaving Amy feeling sicker than before. "That's ideal! Why, I'd put up with anything to go!"

"Jo," Amy began, sorry she'd opened her mouth. "Aunt March has asked me to go…"

"To Europe? My Europe?" Jo's expression slowly returned to somber as she knowingly exchanged glances with Beth. Amy wanted to die.

"It - It was decided just today…" Amy's mind was racing, wishing to justify herself any way she could. Aunt March's words echoed in her brain as she sat beside Beth. "Well, I _am_ her companion now."

Silence inhabited the room once more. Amy turned desperately to Beth. "She wishes me to study painting abroad…in hopes that I might make a good match there."

"Oh," Beth remarked uncomfortably between her two sisters, smiling nervously.

"Perhaps she wouldn't mind you staying at Plumfield…" Amy began stupidly. "While we're gone."

She could have kicked herself as she saw Jo's anguished smile. Her sister didn't last for much longer, excusing herself from Beth's side, she stood abruptly and forcefully closed the garret door on the way out.

Amy couldn't tear her eyes from the floor, murmuring. "Oh, Beth…"

Beth did not respond, only uncertainly looking from Amy to the window. Laurie had stopped playing, silence reigned again.

"I'm sorry," Amy whispered before heading downstairs again.

Letting out a deep breath as she finally eased out of the house and into the garden, she felt like crying. How had such a marvelous day gone so terribly wrong? Amy felt as if she were the scum of the earth and going over to the Laurence's made her feel worse, but she couldn't stop her feet from moving across the lawn, her heart keeping time.

Entering the Laurence's garden, Amy could hear muffled sobs. Laurie was standing with his back facing her, hands pressed against the stone walls, his head slumped between his shoulders. She could hear his ragged breathing, almost as if he couldn't catch his breath.

She moved toward him slowly, her heart aching in her chest. She felt ashamed for wanting to hold him, when he and her sister where both in so much pain. Reaching out, she pressed her hand to his shoulder, to which he jumped, hair falling into his eyes. Now facing her, she could see his distraught expression, his distant eyes, his furrowed brow.

"Oh, Laurie," She managed, feeling like her own throat was closing up.

"I've been so foolish," He murmured hoarsely, his voice sounding foreign to her ears. "So foolish to think that I could make her love me. She - she just stood there, _begged_ me not to ask her. As if I could just pick someone else."

Amy was silent, pressing her lips together. Her eyes washed over his features; she could see every nerve was tense. Stepping closer to him, she reached out and held his forearm gently. "You are not foolish."

"I had her all wrong. It's like she's a stranger to me. I thought I knew what she wanted, everything I could give her…"

"You know Jo. _She_ doesn't even know what she wants -"

"Don't," His was voice barely above a whisper. "Don't defend her to me Amy. Not right now."

Wheeling around and out of her grasp, he inhaled and ran both hands through his hair. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he dropped down and sat on a bench.

Moving toward him tentatively, slowly, she sat beside him. "I'm sorry, Laurie. I never would have thought -"

"Neither would I. Out of all the…things I've dreamed about. Never. I never thought this would happen."

Amy nodded solemnly, delicately looping her arm though his, gently squeezing just above his elbow. "Maybe…maybe you should just get away for a little while Laurie. Clear your head?"

When he only looked at her she began again. "Come Laurie, you've…you've just graduated…Harvard," She said, emphasizing the word. "You should be proud."

"How can I be? When the one thing I wanted, the one thing that would make me - -that would complete me, doesn't even need me." His dark eyes searched hers for an answer.

"We all need you. I - I can't imagine my life without you Laurie," Amy breathed, her hand slipping down his arm to catch his hand, hugging his arm to her.

This made him smile briefly, squeezing her hand in response. "I guess we'll never be family, huh?" He tried to kid, his laugh seeming choked.

"We've always been family."

At this, his expression brightened. Facing her fully, he leaned into her, resting his forehead on hers. The motion made her breath catch in her throat, as he said, "You don't know what it means to hear you say that."

Smiling, she closed her eyes for a moment, taking it all in. When she opened her eyes again, he was staring at her, eyes bright.

"Laurie?" She said, breaking the silence that had settled upon them.

"Hmm?"

"Will you see me off at the shipping docks in a few weeks?" Amy began slowly, looking straight into his eyes. "I'm going to Paris, with Aunt March."

"Yes, of course," He replied softly, his eyes looking weary again. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."


End file.
